If I ever go away, this is where I’ll be.
If I ever leave, think of me like this.
I am forever twirling in the white foam under the green mountains of Glyfada.
Laying on the SUP on my stomach under the yellow villa.
In the little house by the beach, M is forever smiling at me from the balcony, his reading glasses on, the sea at his back.
Waking up to white walls, rumpled hotel bedsheets, quiet darkness. No one is expecting anything from me. Hugging Bubu as I write, bleary-eyed from sleep, eating peaches.
Coming out of the bathroom in my swimsuit, skin smelling of sunblock. M tells me I’m beautiful. Outside, the heat steals my breath. I swim from the buoys to the beach, clear, emerald waters cooling my skin.
Playing volleyball with burning feet. Standing up with the oar in my hands.
Dipping into the freezing waters after the sun has gone to sleep behind the trees, M waiting to wrap me in a towel on the shore. Smiling that big smile of his, like a kid.
Discovering a new cove, just for us. Splashing you while you hold me in your arms. Swimming in our ‘paradise’.
Feet buried in the wet sand, as I watch him put down our umbrella. Breaking rocks together, butts on the sand, laughing until we can’t breathe.
Long walks that turn to runs, threading through the groups of loud Italians.
Showering while he’s cooking. The sea calming down, filling out window, the sky pink with sunset.
Eating, watching murder mysteries on Netflix and Derry Girls.
Then putting on a summer dress, the kind I was never allowed to wear, to go driving towards the sunset, to go buy crepes in town. Shopping for bags and bowls, watching concerts, filming jazz street musicians. Ordering paninis to go.
Coming back for a 1 am night walk under the full moon, up the stairs, then down to the quiet, dark beach. Laughing, crying, some days in pain. Happy. Happy. Happy.
Writing next to him as he sleeps till dawn.
august 7, 2023
